


I'm Fine

by Emono



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst and Feels, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Character Study, Diabetes, M/M, Medical Conditions, Needles, Sort Of, author indulges in projection, just the boys in love and Jamie being a good boyfriend and Tyler getting down on himself, otherwise everything is the same
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 12:43:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12817782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emono/pseuds/Emono
Summary: Tyler hates what he's become. He hates knowing that everything is just downhill from there. He hates that he can't go a day without being reminded how sick he is. Jamie tries to help but sometimes the weight of it is too much.





	I'm Fine

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are super appreciated. I'm going through some stuff so any feedback is great. Sorry I haven't written in a while, updates might come slow for a while :/

It was right there like a beacon.

 

Tyler had been told since the day he’d been diagnosed that he would live a long, healthy, ‘fulfilling’ life. They’d danced around the word _normal_ like a landmine. That one word had stamped itself to the back of Tyler’s mind. It had been a throw away phrase before, something to be rejected, but now it was all he wanted. Every doctor and nurse had been adamant in their promise that he’d feel perfectly fine once he got his condition under control. In a year, they said, you’ll feel like a whole new person. 

 

They’d lied. Even if they hadn’t meant to, they’d been _wrong_. They’d given him a false hope that had ticked away every month since this all started and bitterness had rooted deep into his gut. 

 

Tyler thumbed the medical plastic on his stomach and thought about how easy it would be to rip it out forever. It was stark white, shining, calling to him.

 

Diabetes. The name was simple and well known. It didn’t carry the weight of cancer or leukemia. There wasn’t baggage dragging behind it when it entered a conversation. It was a throw away, like Tyler used to think ‘normal’ was. It was paired with phrases like ‘my grandmother had it’ and ‘it runs in my family’, like it could never happen to them. And it didn’t. They were the lucky ones.

 

They didn’t know what it was like to go to the doctor for dehydration and weight loss only to be told that there’s so much glucose in their urine that it could cause mold. They’d never struggled with the life changing decision on whether or not to do the blood work, to take that risk, to go _back_ to a place that had given you terrified looks over the rim of a clipboard. They’d never cried on a nurses shoulder while another had taken their blood, sobbing because they’d have to go on insulin. They’d never begged God to take it back because twenty four was too young to be this _sick_. They didn’t know the stomach drop that came with the finality of a phone call returned too quickly. 

 

_ “Your results came back, Mr. Seguin. You’re type one. We’re going to need you to come back in as soon as you can. We’ve set up an appointment with a representative to get you started.” _   
  


_  
“Started on what?” _

 

_ “Your insulin pump. You’re going to need one right away. Until then the doctor is going to write you a prescription for insulin pens. I’d like to double check the address for your preferred pharmacy, if you don’t mind…” _

 

Tyler clenched his eyes shut to fight off the sting of tears. He could remember the call so clearly but not the rest of the day. He’d taken it minutes before his shift had started and had spent the next six hours trying to remember how to function. He’d talked to customers and moved his hands, walked to the right places, nodded at the right times, but the whole day remained a blur. 

 

He thumbed at the edge of the plastic and wondered how long it had been since his shower. 

 

The needles had been the worst part. Tyler was loudly and unashamedly terrified of needles. He’d been that way since he was a kid. Thinking about them too much made his palms clammy and upset his stomach. Shots, drawing blood, it had gone from an easy avoidance to part of his daily life. Pricking his fingers, taking the shots, getting his blood tested, it was all his new ‘normal’. The best part of getting a pump was that he’d gone from giving himself eight shots a day plus five finger pricks to stabbing himself only three times every seven days and two finger pricks. It had been a huge relief but he’d been given a pancreas that everyone could see. 

 

Diabetes was all about sacrifice for gain. Tyler had learned that fairly fast. 

 

It had been easier to sleep with it than he’d thought. On paper it seemed like a big deal. You injected the site which acted like an IV for the insulin to absorb into your fatty tissue, and that ran through a line to the pump itself. The line came in three sizes but he’d kept the one he’d been given. Medium length had been plenty. He could remove it to swim or shower but no more than an hour at a time. And all day long, his pump gave him the steady _dripdripdrip_ of insulin that a healthy person’s pancreas did. 

 

It was a miracle in technology, a God send, a true blessing. Tyler cursed it like poison and wished he’d never gone back to that blood test. 

 

Tyler bitched and groaned and _seethed_ whenever he got up to get something and the damn pump fell off. It was always a fun feeling to have an organ you’re attached to smack the floor and pull at your thigh or stomach or ass. He just _loved_ taking a piss or a dump and pulling his pants up only to rip his entire site out. Calling in was a thrill when he had to explain to the coaches that he’d be fifteen minutes late because he had to rework his routine to get a fresh site going, especially when he was already late to begin with. Teammates would say unintentionally shitty things that got under his skin.

 

"You have to prick your finger and put your site-thing in all the time so, I mean, you have to be used to it by now?"

 

No, asshole. Every time hurt like the first and sometimes he'd rather get boarded that press that tabs that shoved a needle into his skin.

 

Tyler sighed and tossed his arm over his eyes to block out the sunlight. Maybe if he just laid here long enough he’d get healthy. So many sweet idiots had promised to pray for his pancreas to ‘heal itself’ - maybe it would work? Maybe if he just ignored it he could go back to eating heaping plates of carbs and regular soda and only worry about staying in shape for hockey.

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Tyler stayed still and tried to keep hiding as if that would scare Jamie away. He knew there was no way his boyfriend and captain would drop it and leave him to sulk but he had to try. 

 

“What are your numbers like?” Jamie needled.

 

“I’m fine,” Tyler lied outright.

 

“Yeah?” He could practically feel Jamie’s eyes burning a path to where his blood sugar sensor bumped smoothly along the back of his arm. “So where’s your pump?”

 

Tyler pursed his lips and prayed Jamie would just leave. There was no chance and that reassured him just as much as it agitated him. It was no secret that Jamie was a sweet, caring guy with all the talent in the world. He was in his prime, a captain, and, in Tyler’s opinion, he deserved miles better than the likes of him. Tyler was a great player, sure, but he was sick and mopey and his bad habits got on his boyfriend’s nerves. 

 

Tyler bit his lip against a dry sob. He knew that was the high sugar talking. He could almost taste it. Like the time he devoured a whole forty-six count box of Rice Krispie treats and his sweat had tasted sweet for hours. Even his fucking _feelings_ weren’t real. He knew that he and Jamie got along well on every level that mattered. They were great together on the ice, in bed, at home - and this gross self deprecation was coming from the ugly, sick place inside him that twisted him in on himself. His sugar could fuck with him if he didn’t pay attention.

 

“Seggy,” Jamie pleaded. Shit, now he was making him worry. “You know you’re dry, right?”

 

Tyler shrugged like he didn’t understand but he knew. He was supposed to put the pump back in after the shower. No more than an hour. The phrase never got old. He’d been laying there so long his hair had dried in curls across his forehead. He heard Jamie sigh and he echoed the sound. He slid his arm off his face and pouted at Jamie to try and stave off a lecture. He wasn’t sure what he expected but it wasn’t the heartbreakingly tender look on his captain’s face. 

 

Jamie walked sat aside his gym bag and kicked off his shoes. He must’ve been on his way out the door and Tyler was hit with a pang of guilt. “I’m fine. Just-”

 

“Just nothing,” Jamie cut him off, swiping the pump off the dresser. He slid the onto the bed and it dipped under his weight. The towel around Tyler’s hips shifted with the bed. Jamie presented his pump with a raised brow but only sighed when he didn’t move to take it. “Okay.”

 

Tyler swallowed around the lump in his throat as he watched Jamie stretch out the insulin line. It didn’t easily kink but Jamie was meticulous in making sure it was as straight as it could be. He took the clear plastic clip at the end between his thick fingers and went right for the spot Tyler had been glaring at since he got out of the shower. 

 

The milky white plastic on his stomach was surrounded by dirty mesh, chunked up and bunched at the edges from days of rubbing his against his shirts. The plastic’s gaping, ugly mouth met the smooth plastic of the clip. The needle slid into place inside the port and his little IV drip was all connected again.

 

“Okay,” Jamie breathed out again, humming under his breath as he hit the right combination of buttons to unlock the insulin pump’s screen. “So I hit…?”   
  


“Middle button,” Tyler grunted. Jamie wasn’t tugging at the pump at all or touching anything he could feel but it was intimate. His insulin pump was always with him. It was as much a part of him as any limb, any finger, and now it was cradled between Jamie’s palms. The faint click of of the port had made him shiver. He’d never let anyone but Jamie touch his pump before and he wasn’t sure he’d ever want anyone to after (if there was an ‘after’ between them). 

 

“Resume delivery, confirm,” Jamie muttered to himself as he carefully walked through the steps that Tyler had showed him all those months ago. “There. All set. How do you feel?”

 

“Like shit,” Tyler deadpanned.

 

Jamie wasn’t phased. “More than usual?”

 

Tyler groaned and tugged the pillow close enough to bury his face in. Jamie made a quiet, reassuring noise and ran his hands over his knees. “Roll over?”

 

Tyler didn’t even bother to make a show of hesitation. He rolled over onto his stomach and tucked his arms underneath his head. His towel rode up but he didn’t care. Jamie’s palms were rough and broad but they slid well over his thighs, curling and kneading into the muscle. Tyler sighed when Jamie crawled up over him and rubbed up his back, working over whatever he could reach. It felt so natural and good that Tyler didn’t even notice how his fingers skidded around the blood sugar sensor on the side of his thigh. 

 

“Come to the gym with me.” It was an order. A gentle one, but still an order. “It’ll be good. It’ll help get your sugar down.” He dug his fingers in when Tyler sucked in a breath to protest. “I saw your numbers, Seggy, so shut the fuck up. You’ve got morning skate whether you’re levelled out or not so you might as well suck it up now.”

 

Tyler pouted into the pillow but pushed up into his hands. “Morning skate is optional.”

 

“Not when you’re dating the captain,” Jamie snickered, patting his butt playfully. “Get your clothes on and strap that thing down so we can go.”

 

Tyler almost told him to go fuck himself but melted when a soft kiss was dropped between his shoulder blades. In that moment, he forgot about the port on his stomach and the pager practically glued to his hip. He was just a hockey player, a man, normal and following his captain’s orders and enjoying his partner’s affection. 

 

Tyler felt a taste of that old ‘normal’. It was morning skate and grueling gym trips under Jamie’s warm gaze. 

 

o0o

 

They’d been hungry for it all night. Through practice and cool-down work out, through the team after-stretch and dinner. They’d be making eyes at each other, sharing winks during particularly vigorous stretches and finding any excuse to help each other out. They’d been handsy through their steaks and beer, leaning into each other’s space until Spezza was begging them to just go home already. 

 

They tore through the apartment like a storm. Tyler wasn’t a small guy but Jamie was broad and clumsy, forgetting himself as they knocked into walls and side tables on the way to the bedroom. They only broke away long enough for Tyler to wrangle his precious pups out of the bedroom to give them some privacy. They fumbled with belts and buttons as they tried to get as much skin exposed as they could.

 

Jamie grabbed his hips and ground against him as he mouthed sloppily at his throat, sheer need stealing his finesse. “Fuck, Tye, you feel…”   
  


  
“Yeah?” Tyler teased breathlessly as he rubbed against his captain. “That good?”   
  


  
Jamie nodded and choked on a whine as he pulled at the hem of his too-tight jeans. 

 

“You want something, big guy?” Tyler teased mercilessly. He had his fingers curled in Jamie’s belt loops and shamelessly rubbed against him. Jamie nodded more eagerly and pushed against him. “You better earn it.”

 

It was a playful challenge that they both took to. They pulled and pushed at one another until they fell into bed. Tyler’s head was blissfully empty beyond physical pleasure. His focus narrowed down to Jamie’s palms and lips, the edge of the world ending at the foot of their bed. Their bare chests pressed and Tyler felt sparks all down his spine to the tips of his fingers. Jamie rolled them over, covering him. Tyler moaned shamelessly and spread his legs for him, pushing up to feel the thick desire in his jeans.

 

Jamie hissed and pulled back, ducking his head briefly.

 

“What’s wrong?” Tyler asked, blinking stupidly as he tried to think beyond the urge to hump his captain.

 

“It’s - yeah, it’s fine,” Jamie bit off, a new red brushing the apples of his cheeks. Tyler pushed up and looked between them where the other was trying to shift. His pump was digging into Jamie’s bare hip and it looked painful. Tyler pushed Jamie over and the man grunted when his back hit the mattress.

 

“Ty, it’s fine.”

 

“Shut up.” Tyler got out of his pants and boxers, kicking them aside. He started to go into his pump’s menu to suspend the delivery and unattach it but Jamie’s big hand fell over his. “What?”  
  
  
  
“Don’t,” Jamie insisted. He looked so damn earnest, eyes soft while his jeans strained against his needy cock. “Your sugar’s been high all day. Keep it in, we can work around it.”

 

“Jamie,” Tyler groaned. “Seriously, man?”

 

Jamie’s unyielding glare told him he was. Tyler tried to put his pump out of his mind and lose himself in Jamie’s full lips. His captain’s palms were eager and left burning trails in their wake. His head started going that nice kind of sex-fuzzy and he forgot all about sugar and blood and his fucking pancreas on the outside. 

 

Before he knew it, Tyler was rolling his captain over and straddling his wide waist. He felt a tug at his thigh and winced into their kiss. He wasn’t sure what it was at first and ignored it, kissing harder to distract himself. His dick rubbed against Jamie in a dry grind and sparks shot up his spine. He rolled his hips and there was another tug at his thigh but much more painful.

 

Tyler jerked and glared down at his leg, gritting his teeth at the sight of his insulin line wrapped around his thigh. His pump had somehow shifted and he’d gotten tangled when they flipped. The site where the line went inside him was getting yanked on with every movement.

 

“For fuck’s sake,” Tyler snarled as roughly tugged it around. He tossed it back on the bed with an angry flush. He could feel Jamie’s sympathetic stare but he wasn’t in the mood for it. Tyler grabbed a fistful of his boyfriend’s hair and dragged him into a rough kiss. They scraped their mouths raw between stubble and teeth. Jamie tried to protest but Tyler ate it, pressing past it.

 

The pump beeped in a high blood sugar and something snapped in Tyler. He dry sobbed against Jamie’s lips and jerked away, fingers clawing at the site like he wanted to rip it out. Jamie fumbled for his hand to stop him but he made a wounded noise and the man flinched. Tyler tried to get off him but Jamie quickly sat up and wrapped his arms around him.

 

Tyler knew Jamie was saying all sorts of sweet things and was trying to be reassuring but it was hard to hear beyond the howling of his own thoughts. Everything inside him was screaming that he was a freak. He couldn’t even have sex without this fucking disease getting in the way. It interfered with hockey, his diet, his relationships,  _sex_ \- his whole fucking life. It crept in and infected everything, _ruining_ it.

  
Tyler was nearly off the bed when Jamie took him by the waist and dragged him back into his lap. His captain’s legs bracketed his own and his arms bulged across his stomach, holding him tight. Tyler tried to pull away, wiping his wet eyes, but Jamie wasn’t yielding. He hushed and hugged him, smooth cheek brushing against his own, kisses dropped wherever he could reach.

 

“It’s okay,” Jamie promised with an earnest sincerity that broke Tyler’s heart.  

 

“It’s not,” Tyler choked past his palm. “I can’t even have sex without it reminding me that I’m fucking _sick_.”

 

Jamie eased an arm from around his waist and when it returned he was delicately cradling his pump in his palm. Tyler bared his teeth at it. “I hate that fucking thing.”

 

“I don’t,” Jamie assured gently. Tyler scoffed but Jamie kissed under his jaw and hushed him again. “I _don’t_.”

 

Tyler snapped his teeth with bitter edge. “You’re not the one who has to keep their pancreas on their belt and get gawked at like a botched science project in the grocery store.” He dug the heel of his palm into his eyes to wipe away the memory of lingering stares and disgusted sneers when he had to take his shots or change his reservoir in his pump. “I…”

 

Jamie kissed his shoulder in silent encouragement.

 

“I feel so ugly,” Tyler husked, lips twitching in the ghost of a smile as he finally let it out. It was a truth he hadn’t let himself voice since he’d first put the pump in. It was always between him and his teammates, his family, his boyfriend - digging into hips, bulging from the sling he sometimes wore around his stomach or thigh, catching on doorways and knobs and table edges, falling when he got out of bed or a chair, tangling up around his legs when all he wanted to do was fuck and forget everything.

 

Jamie turned his head and brushed a chaste kiss across his lips. His eyes were dark and honest, wide and glittering with something like sympathy but closer to love. “You’re not. It keeps you alive, Ty. That’s all I want.”

 

Tyler rubbed their noses together and Jamie’s smile eased some of the tension in his chest. He cleared his throat and tried to smile back. “You still want to sleep with me? Even if I’m some kind of shitty cyborg?”

 

“Babe, I love your cyborg parts,” Jamie assured him with a hint of a smirk. “Kids love bionic stuff and you’ve always been more trendy than me. Why should this be any different?”

 

Tyler punched him in the leg and they both managed to laugh. He slumped into Jamie and buried his face in the man’s pale neck. He sighed and Jamie hugged him tighter. “Do you want to just grill some steaks? I could use about four beers right now.”

 

Jamie pecked his cheek. “ _One_ beer, and I’ll fire up the grill. Last time you almost took your eyebrows off.”

 

“And I’ll season, because you suck at cooking,” Tyler chirped.

 

They shoved each other into the kitchen and let themselves get wrapped up in each other, the dogs, nursing the grill to life. Gerry practically chewed at Jamie’s ankles as he put the steaks on but Tyler distracted him with a fresh rope and a game of tug. They all settled together on the deck like a family and ate and drank as the sun started to set. When all the dishes were piled into the sink, they found a movie to watch and the dogs piled all over them on the sectional as the night wound down.

 

Tyler’s sugars were low enough that night that they felt comfortable enough taking off his pump as their kisses grew heated. For a blissful hour it was ignored and Tyler felt grounded in his body, fingers and toes buzzing with pleasure as he collapsed into the sheets. Jamie rubbed the ache out of Tyler’s thighs and he started to doze under that sure touch. He grunted in thanks when Jamie got a wet cloth and cleaned them both up.

 

Tyler sighed as Jamie rolled him onto his back, mustering the strength to pucker his lips when he was kissed but not much else. He felt the faintest tug and then a click as Jamie connected the clip on his insulin line back into the port on his stomach. Tyler’s chest flooded with warmth and when Jamie laid down next to him he only had enough time to murmur a thank you before he was fast asleep. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
